Scary Smart!

I got a scary new phone for my birthday.  It's a, uh, hang on, let me check the box...Samsung Galaxy s4.  It came in a fancy weighted box that reminded me of a jewelry box without the velvet.  It seemed like my husband should've been down on one knee when he gave it to me, but he didn't go for that.

I knew from the get go that my phone is capable of lots of cool and "smart" things that I'll never be able to understand or utilize because I'm feeble-minded technologically.  But my son has a full gaming system set up on there with more options than an arcade.  And when I was crying about my best friend, M, leaving for Texas soon, she downloaded Skype so we can see each other.  Actually, she installed Skype as we were between movies the other night and she said, "Here, now you just need to set up an account," and tried to pass it back.  I looked over at her like she had asked me to remove my own spleen with a penknife.  She changed her tune to, "Oh, right.  I'll set up an account for you.  What do you want your screen name to be?"

"Is Maverick taken?"  Nod.  "Goose?"  Another nod.  "I didn't really like Iceman.  Well, he was cute, but-"

"How about something with Heather in it?" she suggested.

"Okay.  I guess just plain Heather is taken, right?"  (I don't know why she hangs out with me.  I hope her new friends in Texas are smarter.)

Anyway, we got that set up.  My phone also has all my favorite songs on it and if I get lucky on any given day, I can find them.  But here's where the story gets scary...

My husband bought a Toyota Highlander earlier this year and I remember him rambling on about how it was sort of tricked out technology-wise.  (My words, because his might bore you.)  It has whatever bluetooth is (unrelated to the Highlander being blue, by the way) and USB ports and other thingies I can't remember.  My girl, M, said we could probably view pictures from my camera on the screen that is usually telling me where I'm going or who I'm listening to.  I don't know why I'd ever need to flip through a photo album while driving, so we haven't done that yet.

Actually, we're just now getting to the scary part.  Man, I'm long-winded.  I was on the phone with my brother yesterday, consulting him on grilling sliders for a fantasy football draft party I'm throwing tonight, and I walked out of the house and got into the Highlander to drive to Target.  As soon as I put the key in the ignition, my brother was talking to me through the Toyota's speakers instead of my phone.  I didn't tell the phone to do that, I didn't tell the truck to do that, I just got in.  My phone wasn't attached to anything in the Highlander.  Then, when I ended my phone call, the Highlander started playing the album I had last listened to on my phone, in the kitchen, the day before!  It picked up on the fourth track, where I left off, in the kitchen, the day before!

AND...when I'm texting, it knows what I'm going to say.  And I don't just mean it will offer to finish a word I've started, like I type fi and it offers finished or finally or first.  No, it will offer the next word based on what I've typed so far.  It knows what I'm going to say.  Not all the time, because I surprise even myself with what I say next sometimes, but it does it a lot!

How long until my phone and the Highlander decide they don't need me anymore and take over my house?  I'm worried they already talk about me behind my back.

We got a new washer and dryer this year, and they're too technologically advanced for me too.  Lots of shiny screens and buttons and stuff.  Also by Samsung.  I think if I'm nice to my phone, it can control my washer from the carpool line and command the dryer to fluff the clothes when I'm almost home from the grocery store.  But again, I'm becoming dispensable and superfluous.

Alfred Hitchcock had it all wrong, people.  It won't be the birds that come together to destroy humanity, it'll be our smart phones.  The Amish will get a big "I told you so" then.